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her-favorite · 4 months

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CLANDESTINE II; M. / C. STURNIOLO

MATT STURNIOLO X F!READER X CHRIS STURNIOLO

warnings: SMUT, utter FILTH, obvi no interaction between matt & chris (duh), soft dom!matt/sub!reader/dom!chris, praising, degrading, reader’s on the pill blah blah, probably more but !

a/n: you guys are the sweetest omg 😭 i can’t thank all of you enough for the love on pt. 1!! Love you guyss!! <3 hopefully this isn’t a let down! also that pic of matt actually has me on my knees omfg

wc: 5,705

tags!: @realqueenofpepsi @mattyblover07 @thepubeburgler @sturnsxplr-25 @sturnthepot @stasiesturn @eden4eva @kidwhyareallthenamestaken for all the people that asked to be tagged but aren’t on here, it’s bc tumblr won’t let me (or there’s a setting you might have to turn on to be tagged?) I’m not ignoring anyone, i promise 😭🫶🏻

SYNOPSIS: You knew it was wrong, nothing could justify it. But you kept going back. Matt knew it was unforgivable to go behind his brothers back like this. But he couldn’t stop. So what happens once Chris finds out?

PT. 1 | PT. 2

To say you were sore was an understatement.

After Matt had left and Chris came back, you and your boyfriend quickly fell back into your routine. Contradicting to the other brother’s method, Chris fucked you with all the strength he had, resulting in the headboard of the bed to smash against the bare wall behind it, showcasing to anyone near what you two were doing.

It was the day after that whole situation had happened and you couldn’t get it off of your mind. You knew you should tell Chris, your boyfriend, that his triplet brother had fucked you just minutes before he had made his way home. But no time was right.

As the day went by, you were left alone in the triplets’ house as they went out to film a car video for the upcoming Friday. During that time, you spent it trying to figure out how to tell Chris what had happened while he was gone.

Now looking back, you truly wonder how you got yourself in this situation… again.

“Fuck, you look so pretty with my dick in your mouth.” Matt’s voice rings in your ears, only making you wetter than you were before. He knew just the right things to say to make you desperate for him.

Guiding your head against him, Matt keeps his large hand in your hair. The way you look up at him only makes his stomach tighten, the look of pure lust in your eyes driving him further into pleasure. Your warm tongue glides along him, occasionally striking a vein. Groaning, Matt leans back against his door, closing his eyes as he only pays attention to the sensation you’re making him feel.

Matt knew everything about this was wrong. You’re his brother’s girlfriend. But it just felt so right. He couldn’t get enough of the way you moan, or the way you whined his name, or the way your pussy was made for him. He was enamored with the way you tasted, the way your lips wrapped around his cock, and the way your body looked so fucking pretty on his silk sheets. He knew his underlying feelings for you were eventually going to get in the way of what was going on, but he was already wrapped around your finger; tight enough it could cause you to go numb.

Cutting him out of his thoughts, your fingers suddenly dig into his thighs, eliciting a moan from Matt. His fingers pull at your hair, your mouth vibrating around him as you whine from the sting. His back arches slightly from the feeling, his pink lips opening in silent euphoria.

“Doin’ so good, baby. Makin’ me feel so fucking good.” He praises mindlessly, too caught up in the way you bring him to the edge. Without realizing, his hips thrust forward, a sound escaping your mouth from the sudden action, forcing you to take all of him. A guttural moan leaves Matt’s lips in response, his grasp on your hair tightening.

Hollowing your cheeks, saliva runs down your chin, yet Matt can’t take his eyes off of you. The way you look on your knees for him, those pretty eyes telling him all he needs to know. Breathing heavily, the hand he has in your hair moves slightly to brush a strand behind your ear before wrapping around the back of your neck.

“So fucking pretty.” His voice is deeper than usual, sending a chill down your spine. His words sounded clear despite the pleasure he was feeling. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum.” Matt huffs, his chest heaving. Subconsciously, his hand glides into your hair, pulling as the knot inside his stomach tightens. Moaning from the pressure, your lips vibrate around him, eliciting a gasp from the man above you. “Gonna,” a deep groan cuts himself off. “Gonna cum, baby.” His hips thrust forward, catching you off guard as you gag. Matt’s moans become more frequent as his tattooed arm grips your hair, veins protruding from his skin. With one more jolt of his hips, he stills as he moans your name, the band inside of him snapping. Keeping your head there, he makes you swallow it as you keep eye contact with him.

Huffing out a breath, Matt leans back against his door and lets go of your hair. As you pull away, you cough slightly, your throat already becoming sore. A soft chuckle catches your attention as you look back up at him.

“You got something,” Matt smiles as his hand cups your chin, gliding his thumb across your bottom lip, collecting a drop of his cum that had escaped your lips. Opening your lips in return, he guides his thumb forward to rest on your tongue, gathering the drop as your eyes meet his half-lidded ones. You notice his jaw clench before his tongue runs over his top teeth, sucking in his cheeks. Matt knew how much of an affect that had on you, the way his tongue wrapped behind his lips, sucking on his teeth as he looked down at you. That’s why he did it, because it teased you.

“Such a good girl,” he mutters, slowly taking his thumb away, not before dragging your bottom lip down. “On the bed, sweetheart.” He taps the wet part of the pad of his thumb against the side of your lips, then pulls away so you can follow his orders.

Quickly doing so, you scramble up to his bed, sitting back on his soft comforter. Matt’s piercing eyes watch your every move as he picks up the desperation radiating off of you. He’d be lying if he said your neediness didn’t turn him on. Leaning forward, his hands envelop your ankles, slowly but surely making their way up your legs. The look in his eye was intimidating, almost like a predator catching it’s prey. You felt your heart rate increase, your chest rising and falling faster and faster.

His lips bring you out of your reverie, the pink pillows pressing soft kisses against your skin. By now, you could feel yourself throbbing, practically leaking down on his blanket. You were sure he wouldn’t mind.

“What does he do to you, baby?” His words surprise you, your body tensing up slightly. Why was he bringing up your sex life with your boyfriend while he was going to fuck you? Let alone your boyfriend being his own brother. Exhaling shakily, you look down at him as he still makes his way up your body. Before you could answer, he continues, “Is he rough with you? You like to be tossed around?” Matt’s voice grows deeper as he speaks, a curl to his lips as he notices the affect his words are having on you already.

Swallowing dryly, you nod your head, recalling the punishments you’ve gotten from Chris. From spanking you until you couldn’t sit down, to fucking you so hard you couldn’t walk, to leaving you high and dry for a half an hour because you misbehaved. But Matt wasn’t like that. Matt liked to take his time with you, to taste and feel every inch of your skin. To make sure all the pleasure he was feeling was being reciprocated to you. To please you before any of his selfish needs get in the way. He liked the way you obeyed him without question; sure, you’re probably used to it from Chris, but he didn’t like thinking of that. He wanted you to himself, every part of you marked as his.

“But you love the way I take care of you, sweetheart.” Matt continues, almost as if trying to one up your boyfriend. As if he’s trying to make you believe he’s better than Chris. “You moan so pretty for me when I’m inside you.” He says as he never stops his kisses, getting a dangerously close to your inner thighs, occasionally biting down, causing a gasp to leave your lips as he smirks. “You love the way my tongue feels, don’t you? Always taste so good.” Once he finishes his sentence, he leans forward to press a kiss against your clit, a whine escaping your throat. He’s been teasing you the entire time and you’ve already gotten past the desperation of the situation.

Gliding past where you needed him most, Matt’s lips trail up your stomach as they stop at your breasts, centering in on your right with his lips as his hand cups the opposite. Taking your nipple in his lips, his tongue teases the sensitivity making your chest heave. One of your hands snaps up to curl into his hair, tugging the short strands as he groans against your skin. His large palm massages the other, tweaking your nipple every now and then before gently rubbing the pad of his finger over it to soothe the ache.

Leaving one last kiss to your nipple, he travels up higher, reaching your neck as he has to hold himself back from marking your skin. Pressing kisses against it, he licks a stripe upwards as goosebumps appear.

“You love the way I make you feel,” Matt mutters, his lips brushing your neck. Moving up just slightly, his lips meet your ear as he whispers, “Don’t you, ma?” His wording makes your body tense as it reminds you that Chris is the only person that calls you that. Deep down, you knew he did it on purpose, that undeniably sexy smirk never faltering on his lips. His big hands glide down your bare body, feeling every ridge on your hips, down to your thighs as his short nails dig into them.

“Because you’re so desperate for us, hm?” Matt leads on, his lanky fingers dipping between your folds, catching you off guard. Your mouth opens, heavy exhales escaping from you. “Since one of us wasn’t enough,” one of his fingers enters you, eliciting a whine from you. A soft laugh was heard above you, Matt’s eyes never looking away from you. “You needed more.” A second finger joins, stretching you out. A moan leaves you as he moves them just the way you like, your hands reaching out to take hold of something. Mindlessly, your left grasps the sheets as your right takes perch on his bicep. Holding himself up, he has one arm beside your head as your nails dig into his perfect skin.

“You close, angel?” His voice only brought you closer to the edge, that soothing, yet domineering tone flowing through your ears. Nodding your head, you’re breathless as Matt curls his long fingers inside you, hitting that perfect spot. “Then cum for me, Y/N.” It was a demand.

As if your body knew his orders, it obeyed as that band snapped and your legs shook, your orgasm hitting you like a train. Digging your nails even further into his unscathed skin, you mark him, an action that Matt doesn’t take lightly. To him, making your mark on someone means they’re his, and this entire time he’s been trying to hold back from doing so, but now that you have… he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop himself.

Exhaling harshly, your chest heaves as your thighs calm down, twitching once he slowly removes his fingers from you. Featherlight kisses were pressed against your face, Matt’s pink lips relaxing you further.

“Did so good for me, princess. The best girl, my best girl.” He rambles, his voice quiet as he keeps close to you. You were always so warm after he had his way with you. Your eyes peek open slightly as you swallow dryly, making eye contact with him.

You knew he tended to speak before he thought when you two were together after a session, but his words caught you off guard. His best girl. It left your mind reeling as Chris invaded it, reminding you of what you were doing. How could you do this to him? Not only once, but twice. You have to tell him, to come clean. You knew you were going to lose him, why wouldn’t he break up with you? Fuck.

“Hey, look at me.” Matt’s voice breaks through your anxious thoughts, immediately noticing your change in tone. His left hand reaches up to cup your cheek, moving your head to look at him. “Focus on me, baby. I’m right here.”

Yeah, he is… and where’s your boyfriend?

The next few days have been awkward.

You didn’t want to face it, but it’s true. Being Chris’s girlfriend, you’ve basically lived in the triplets’ house for awhile now. So, seeing Matt around every corner, no matter where you go, always made you anxious. An inner thought always screamed at you that anytime either of you interacted, whether you both are just talking or even in the same vicinity, Chris could tell that something was going on. Which, deep down, you knew was unrealistic, but the reasonable part of your brain was always ignored in that moment.

Tonight, all four of you sat on the couch as a movie played. Nick was growing bored of it, occasionally unlocking his phone and scrolling through it; Matt was watching it as his eyes glossed over the screen; Chris was actually paying attention to it and you couldn’t. You and your boyfriend were sitting together, his big hand on your thigh as he brought you close; Nick was by the end of the couch, not paying attention to anything other than the video his phone was playing, and Matt was a few feet away from you, near the corner of the couch, yet he wasn’t far enough away to not realize what Chris was doing.

You knew the situation was fucked up. Everything about it was utterly wrong. Deciding finally tonight was the night you’d tell Chris was difficult. Something about his smile seemed happier than usual, and he was practically bouncing off the walls lately. You knew that if you were to tell him, all of that would dim to nothing, and knowing you’d be the cause of his sadness broke you. But the guilt of still being so close to him while having an affair with his brother was eating you alive.

As the movie got closer to its end and Nick’s attention span fizzled out, he retreated to his room as Matt found purchase to his phone, trying his best not to watch you and Chris. He could feel his blood boil as he watched Chris whisper to you in the corner of his eye, his anger only worsening once he noticed the way you laughed in response.

“Go to my room, ma, I’ll be down in a second.” Chris whispers to you, though it’s loud enough that Matt could hear. To say he was furious was an understatement.

Watching you obey Chris made an irritated exhale leave his nose as his eyes followed your frame make its way down to your boyfriend’s room. Once he heard the door shut, he couldn’t help but spare a glance towards his brother. What Matt didn’t expect was to see Chris already staring at him.

“I know, Matt.”

Waiting in Chris’s room felt like torture.

Usually, if he had certain intentions, he’d tell you to strip and wait for him. But, now, you have no clue and the longer he takes, the more nervous you get.

Was he talking to Matt? Did Matt end up telling Chris what was going on? What’s taking so long? Is he gonna break up with you once he comes down here?

Sitting down on the foot of his bed, your mind races as you pick at your finger, trying to figure out what could possibly be going on upstairs. Taking deep breaths, you do your best to try and calm yourself, but your racing heartbeat immediately picks back up once your ear registers footsteps coming down the stairs. Quickly standing up, the door creaks open as your heart begs to be released from its hold inside of your chest.

Chris steps inside, shutting the door behind him before he makes eye contact with you. “Hey, babygirl,” he takes a few steps forward to stand in front of you, wrapping his arms around your waist. On instinct, yours slither around his shoulders, the familiar position easing your nerves just barely. Humming a quiet, “hey,” in response, you wait for him to keep talking.

When he doesn’t, it surprises you. But before you could think of opening your mouth, Chris leans forward to rest his forehead against yours, keeping you close to him. “Y’so pretty, baby.” His voice was low, that tone he only uses whenever he wants to tease you.

“Chris,” a whisper fell from your lips. You weren’t entirely sure what you were going to say, but you already felt that tension inside you, needing more from him and he hasn’t even done anything yet. In the back of your mind, you knew you should tell him - it was the perfect time - but something inside you was telling you different. Let tonight play out, it said. Maybe it’ll be the last time.

“What, ma? What’s wrong?” Chris smirks, knowing that even something that little can get you going for him. His right hand glides up your body, fitting perfectly on your neck. Your lips part as his large hand manhandles you, your left hand reaching forward to rest on his arm. “What, can’t speak?” His eyes squint slightly, testing you. The curl to his lips never falters, only getting off on the way you react to him.

“Poor baby, already so fucking desperate for me.” His words are harsh as he walks towards the end of his bed, bringing you backwards. Pushing you lightly, your back hits his mattress, sinking into the soft blankets. “You were so fucking needy for me,” Chris mutters as he leans down, his nose tickling your neck, his lips grazing your skin. Gliding up to your ear, he whispers, “You had to go get some more from my brother.” His words make your breathing stop, your body tensing. Chris watches you, a laugh escaping his lips as his eyes wander your reaction. “Needy fucking whore. My dick was too good, you needed to try his, too.” His words are aggressive, but the way he says them are neutral, as if he doesn’t care.

Getting up from his spot, Chris stands in front of you, crossing his arms. Leaning up, your hands help you as you try to speak. “Chris, wait—”

“Did I say you could speak?” He snaps, his jaw clenching visibly. You shake your head in response, sealing your lips shut. “Be a good girl and stay right there.” His hand holds your chin while he talks before letting you go and turning from you, walking towards his door. At this point, you weren’t sure if he was genuinely mad or if he was playing his part by being in control of you, like how he is in bed.

You listen to him, though, sitting on his bed and not moving an inch. After a minute or two, the door opens again making your head snap up to the sound. Chris walks back in without shutting it behind him, his gaze sharp as he looks down at you.

“I know what you want, mama.” His hand rests in the bend between the nape of your neck, his fingers gliding through your hair. “Just a slut for it, huh? You need it so bad, baby.” His words are somewhat vague, but a shock shoots through your body once your eyes drift over towards his door.

“You’re so mean to her.” Matt’s voice sounds throughout the room as he shuts the door behind him, taking a couple steps inside. He stands a few feet behind Chris as his eyes land on you, a small smile on his face as he noticed your shocked expression.

“She loves it. Don’t you, baby?” Chris asks you, pulling you out of your surprised state. Nodding, you swallow dryly, going in blind to their unknown plans with you. Chris hums in reply, already knowing everything he needed to know about you and the things you liked. “C’mere.” He takes a step back as he motions towards him, wanting you to get up from his bed.

Following his wishes, your feet make contact with the floor, your eyes drifting between the two men. You were nervous overall, not sure what you should be doing in the moment, though you were sure they didn’t know either.

“Can I take this off, sweetheart?” Matt asks as his palms glide under your shirt. Your eyes lock as his practically melt yours, your head nodding to his question. His large palms travel up your body as they take the soft fabric with them, letting it fall to the floor once Matt takes it from you. His hands quickly find purchase back on your body, large palms gliding over your bare skin, causing goosebumps to form in result.

Throwing off his hoodie, Chris looks over at you two, noticing your lack of shirt. He knew he shouldn’t be okay with his, that’s his girl, but when has he ever been able to say no to you?

Digging his hands underneath your waistband, Matt lets your shorts fall to the ground, kicking them aside once you stepped out of them. Taking a step forward, his lips met yours as he backed you up towards the foot of Chris’s bed. He swallows your moan as his tongue teases your bottom lip, biting down softly to grab your attention. “Lay down, beautiful.” His fingers indent your hips lightly before letting you go as you lie back on the soft mattress again, mimicking your earlier position.

“What are we gonna do with you, huh, ma?” Chris asks as he moves beside Matt, the both of them staring down at you. Their gazes were intense, lust and desire clouding their vision. You knew Chris was rough in bed, and, for the most part, Matt was the opposite, so you were excited to see how their roles will play out.

To think that you’d be here, laying in your boyfriend’s bed, as him and his brother were looking over you, ready to devour your every move. Had someone told you this would happen a week ago, you would’ve laughed in their face. But now, here you are, almost stripped bare as you wait for either of them to make a move.

Chris broke the silence first, leaning forward to hover over you, attaching his lips to yours eagerly. It was messy and hot, tongue and teeth clashing as Chris controlled it. He breaks away once you both remember your need for oxygen, your lips gasping for breath as your boyfriend kisses down your body. He freezes once he makes it around your breasts, slipping his hand underneath you to quickly undo the clasp. Discarding the fabric elsewhere, his large palms envelope your boobs, twisting and pulling on your nipples, only bringing your sensitivity higher. Whining from the rough treatment, you can feel Chris’s smirk against your skin as he travels his way down further, his hands now finding home at your hips.

As he teases the waistband on your panties, you feel the bed dip beside you, your head turning in response. Matt looks down at you, now only clad in his tight red boxers, showing off the big print of what’s inside. Reaching forward, his hand cups your jaw, making you keep eye contact with him.

“Such a needy girl.” He mutters, the tone of his voice sending a chill down your spine. His thumb glides up, dragging the side of your lips as they’re forced into a pouting position. His own curl up as he watches you, your chest heaving as the teasing noticeably gets to you.

“Fuckin’ slut is what she is.” Chris chimes in, nipping at your inner thigh, making you gasp. The both of them chuckle at your involuntary noise. Chris’s lips press a quick kiss to your clothed clit before sneaking his lanky fingers underneath the hem and pulling them down your bare legs. Tossing the fabric aside, he hears your sharp inhale at the cold air hitting your most sensitive parts.

“She just wants some love.” Matt denies, trying to lighten the mood, though, truthfully, he knows how much Chris’s dirty talk gets to you. “Don’t you, baby?” He leans down to press his lips to yours, in sync with Chris as he licks a stripe up your slit. Gasping into Matt’s mouth, you feel both of their smiles in return. Matt hums against you, as if your desperation for the kiss answers his question.

Chris picks up your thighs, setting the deadweights on his shoulders, giving him better access to you. Your thighs tighten around his head almost immediately, the sensation of his warm tongue against you already riling you up. The feeling of the both of them pleasuring you in different ways gets to your head as your climax is brought faster than usual.

As Matt’s lips move against yours, tongue gliding along your swollen bottom lip, Chris sucks harshly on your clit, stimulating you even further. One of your hands reaches up to hang on to the nape of Matt’s neck, bringing him impossibly closer to you as your other one jumps down to grasp into your boyfriend’s hair. Tugging on Chris’s soft strands, he groans against you, the vibration making your back arch as your lips break from Matt’s.

Letting you breathe properly, Matt leans down to pepper kisses on your skin, starting at your jaw as he moves down further to your neck. Your fingers never leave his as they get higher in his hair as he gets lower. His left palm slithers up your side as it grabs your breast gently, keeping in mind that they might be sore from Chris’s abuse on them. Massaging the flesh, he relishes in your moans, the devilish sounds sending heat straight to his dick.

The pleasure you’re feeling is beyond overwhelming as each sensitive part of you was being taken care of. A sharp inhale was released from you once you felt Chris dig his nails into the plush skin on your thighs, only bringing you closer to the edge. Incoherent noises left your lips as you were close to begging, that knot inside your stomach becoming impossibly tighter by the second.

“Chris!” His name left your lips as his tongue entered you, long fingers drawing circles against your clit. Your back arched as your thighs shook, trapping Chris’s head between them. Surprising you, a light nip was made at your neck, Matt’s teeth grazing against your skin.

By now, Matt was past the point of being cautious. Given his situation, he was going to take advantage of it, and he was sure Chris knew that. Marking you was one thing he knew he shouldn’t do, but now? He needs to. Sucking on your skin, biting and licking the soft area, his ears pick up every whimper and whine that your lips make in response. Pulling back just barely, Matt couldn’t get enough of the way you looked marked up by him. It was only turning him on more.

“You close, baby?” Chris asks, his fingers replacing his tongue as they reach parts inside of you your fingers can’t even graze. Nodding in response, your chest heaves as your eyebrows furrow in pleasure. “Words, Y/N. You know this.” He curls them, eliciting a sharp cry from you.

“Yes! Fuck, I’m so close, Chris!” You moan out, your eyes shutting tightly as all the words you were trying to say become mush. You felt Matt’s soft chuckle against your hot skin, the extra vibration only lighting your skin up further. “Please, please let me cum. Chris, fuck—” your words jumble together, though, through your foggy mind, you knew Chris wouldn’t let you without you asking first.

“Cum for me, ma.” His permission was all you needed as your orgasm makes you see stars, both of your hands gripping harshly on both of their hair.

“Doing so good, baby. Such a good girl.” Matt whispers against your skin, his sweet kisses never faltering as he makes his way to your collarbones. His praise only makes you wetter, even after you calm down from the intense feeling. Exhaling heavily, your chest rises and falls quickly, still recovering from the sensation.

Once Chris takes away his fingers, he sets your legs back down, standing up to look down at you. He rids himself of his shirt and pants, also only left in his tight black boxers. “On all fours, babygirl.” He taps your thigh as he speaks.

Following his directions, Matt gets up as well, seeming to have a silent conversation with Chris as you fix your position. Laying sideways on the bed now - per Chris’s request - Matt stands behind you as your boyfriend is in front. Matt’s hands glide steadily over your skin, up your thighs then to your hips, grabbing them as he brings himself closer to you. Chris moves his hand forward to cup the bottom of your chin, forcing you to look up at him.

“You think you can take two dicks, ma?” He asks rhetorically, because either way, he knew you were gonna take them. Nodding to his question, Chris hums as he spares a glance to the man behind you, as if giving him the go-ahead. Matt smirks down at you, even though you can’t see him, as his nails dig into your skin, hips moving towards you. His tip rubs along your wetness, gathering it as your breathing picks up again. You’ve never had Matt fuck you from this angle before, but every time Chris does it, he makes you see stars. You were more than sure Matt could make you feel just as good.

“You ready, sweetheart?” Matt’s voice rings through your ears, steadying your mind. Something about his tone, in the moment, seemed more grounding than usual. The difference between the roughness from Chris and how gentle Matt is, sends your body alight.

“Yes, Matt.” Responding this time, you knew it’d make Chris proud. Speaking of, Chris’s hand travels into your hair, bringing your attention back to him. Brushing a strand back, the smirk on his face makes you even needier, if that was even possible. “Please.”

“Good girl.” Matt praises your politeness, thrusting his hips forward as his tip enters you, already stretching you out. Your lips part in result, still not used to his size, no matter if it were Matt or Chris. Seating himself inside you, he lets you breathe, getting used to the feeling of it all.

“Keep that mouth open, baby.” Chris breaks you out of your daze, his fingers tightening in your hair suddenly. As soon as Matt pulled back from you, he took a second before thrusting forward, the exact same time as Chris moved his, sealing your lips around his dick. You hadn’t even realized when Chris had gotten rid of his boxers, too caught up in the sensation of having Matt inside you. “Fuck, always take it so well.” Chris groans as he keeps eye contact with you, feeling your warm tongue glide along him.

“Feel so fucking good, sweetheart — shit!” Matt rambles before moaning, one of his hands moving along your body to grab your ass. He squeezes lightly, not enough to hurt, but enough to invoke a sound from you. Skin slapping echoes through the room, Matt’s hips hitting against your ass, his blue eyes watching your every move.

With each of Matt’s thrusts, you’re pushing deeper onto Chris, his tip hitting the back of your throat. Groaning from how far down he is, Chris’s hand stays in your hair as the other slides down underneath you, gripping onto your breast. Moaning against him, his fingers tweak your sore nipple as you clench tightly around Matt. A guttural groan leaves the both of them, the vibration catching Chris off guard and your tightening around Matt bringing him closer to his climax.

“Doin’ so good, angel. Feel so good wrapped around me like this.” Matt says, his hips picking up the pace as he feels you get closer to the edge, wanting you to release before he can. Whining from his words, your eyes tear up from the exploitation of your body, so deep into the pleasure of it all.

“Aw, are you crying? Can barely handle it, huh?” Chris mocks as his tone sounds sympathetic, but his expression says otherwise. “Take it, slut. I know you can. Begging for both of our dicks, like the whore you are.” His words are aggressive, but they lead you on, your thighs tensing as you’re brought closer and closer to your orgasm. The tears fall down your cheeks anyway. “Fuck, just like that, baby. So close.” Chris exhales, fingers grasping your hair harder as his other hand squeezes your breast, that feeling inside his stomach releasing. Groaning from the pleasure, you feel him let go, swallowing what gathered in your mouth.

Once he pulled out of your mouth, he lets his other hand fall as his thumb picked up some that dripped from your lips, pushing it inside your mouth to clean it off. Moaning around his finger, you feel yourself get impossibly closer to finishing, your nails digging into the soft blanket underneath you.

“You gonna cum, sweetheart?” Matt’s voice sounds, your head nodding as your left breathless. “C’mon, angel — fuck,” he cuts himself off with a low groan, before continuing. “Cum for me.” With a particular deep thrust, it hits that perfect spot inside you to make your legs shake as you cry out. Moaning his name, your head rests against Chris’s abdomen, his hand coming up to thread through your hair. With a shaky groan from Matt, he stills as he cums, the feeling of you throbbing around him becoming too intense.

Exhaling softly, your body’s spent as it hits the soft mattress, more tired than ever. Without realizing, Matt and Chris join you, one of their hands going for your thigh and the other for your hair.

“Holy shit.”

#matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo imagine

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theratboyking · 1 year

Text

Forever Yours (revised)

Pairing: Papa Emeritus ii/Reader, Vampire!Secondo/Reader

Word Count: 4.5k

Summary: He was not stupid. He knew how dangerous this was. He was playing with fire. This is much more than a fast meal or a good fuck. No Secondo craves you; a deeply rooted hunger for you. He wanted to feel you, hold your heart in his hand and perhaps allow you to hold his as well. (So, I fixed the grammar and added some parts to this. I think there's going to be a part two to this in the near future)

Warnings: Smut, 18+, Like seriously MDI, Reader gets attacked, violence, Blood, Like a lot of blood is mentioned in this, Fluff, sub!reader, dom!Secondo, PnV, This is my first time publishing smut, and that's a warning in and of itself.

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‘She’s late,’ Secondo thoughts were running wild with the possibilities of what could have happened to you. He had been pacing the side alleyway of your apartment building for the better half of an hour–he was surprised he hadn’t worn a hole in his shoes, or the pavement for that matter, from his pacing.

This was the first time you had been late in the months since he met you. Usually, you would say something if you were running late, but no matter how many times he ran through your conversations, he couldn't for the life of him remember you saying you were staying later at the station tonight. No, something had to be wrong; he was sure of it. You were never late, running a tight schedule from your job at the local radio station and your classes. Your early morning meetings before the sun dared to interrupt had become a constant in his life.

It was your punctuation that led to your meeting. He remembers it well. It was late a night, and the moon was full in the sky. Time slowed as the sweetest scent he had ever had the privilege of knowing filled his senses, eyes searching for the source. If time had slowed by just the mere scent of you, it all but stopped when he saw you. The light cast shadows on your skin, framing your face in such a way that if he didn’t know any better, he would have thought you were a fallen angel. He just knew he had to have you in any way he could. However, someone beat him to it.

Another lowly vampire decided that you would make for a nice meal, whatever spell you had put him under braking. Secondo remembers the blood-curdling scream that broke through the night, how it shocked him to the very core—watching you from the shadows as the vampire grabbed you—not even bothering to drag you to someplace more private, instead opting for the side of a building. Secondo remembered the look on your face, the fear in your eyes. He knew he couldn’t let the vial hands of your would-be attacker be your end.

He was a killer, an apex predator. If it weren't for this filth taking you first, he was half convinced he would have been in his place–but there was just something in how you cried for help. The utter fear on your face. He couldn’t allow this to be your end. Ripping his head off before he could even dare piece your lovely neck.

To be fair, he didn’t really know what compelled him to save you. Secondo was a man who had seen his fair share of murders and been the cause of quite a few of them. But when your eyes looked up to meet his, filled with both fear and a touch of wonder. He couldn’t bring himself to make you his meal. Instead, he gave you one last look, a look that would haunt you for months and then vanish into the night.

That wasn’t the last time Secondo had seen you. No far from it. He found himself wanting to know more about you, a pull in his chest compelling him to find you again. One night turned into two; two turned into a week. The weeks turned to months. He had somehow managed to sneak off every night since just to see you. Finding excuses for his being away for hours every night was becoming hard. Terzo had already begun to suspect something. Secondo would be damn if he let Terzo anywhere near you. The idea itself sets embarrassment aflame.

He was not stupid. He knew how dangerous this was. He was playing with fire. This is much more than a fast meal or a good fuck. No Secondo craves you; a deeply rooted hunger for you. He wanted to feel you, hold your heart in his hand and perhaps allow you to hold his as well.

You fascinated him. You weren’t afraid of him. You were… well, you were you. Arguably one of the most beautiful creations he had ever seen, and maybe one day, if he weren’t so much of a coward, he would allow himself to have you. Secondo groans, shaking himself from his thoughts, replacing the hope he held with his own doubts. He was a monster, a killer. There was no way someone as innocent and perfect as you would ever want anything to do with someone like him. Casting his gaze to the sky, watching as the moon sank along the horizon.

Where could you possibly be?

A horrified scream could be heard through the dead of night, snapping him from his thoughts. What little color he had in his face drained. He knew that scream; you were in danger. Letting out a string of curses, anger building up within him, he knew what he had to do—taking off in the direction of the scream, praying to whatever god below would hear him that he was not too late. He couldn’t lose you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The morning show was starting to sound more and more appealing with each passing day. You couldn't help the thought as you went home, hoping your mysterious stranger was still waiting for you. The bridge that led to your apartment was down for maintenance, causing you to take a detour to get home. Working late was part of the job at the radio station, but the walk back home was really starting to freak you out, especially after the incident.

The only thing keeping you on the night shift was him. The stranger had been following you for months now but never during the day. He only ever showed himself at night. Your stranger had many strange qualities about him. The strangest would arguably be that he’s never shown his face to you. The only thing you knew about him was his voice and that he was not entirely human. You’ve known that since the moment you met him.

Despite this, he had never given you a reason to fear him. The mysterious man had somehow made his way into your heart. As surprising as it was, he was surprisingly a sensitive soul; he would stay with you for hours on end, talking about anything and everything. Talking with him through your studio window, to him sitting outside your fire escape talking into the early morning hours.

As strange as it sounds, he had become your friend, despite not even knowing his name. He had become such a part of your life now you couldn’t imagine it without him. Despite the strange situation, he was there; for now, that was enough for you.

Sighing, you missed him anyway. It was well into the early morning hours; the sun would rise soon. He probably got tired of waiting for you. All you honestly wanted at this point was to go home, take a long shower, and then crash. Tomorrow's show will be a doozy; hopefully, the bridge will be open in the afternoon.

Your thoughts were interrupted by pressure on your arm, pulling you back into one of the many alleyways in the city. A horrid screech left you. All air leaving your lungs. You felt your body collide with the side of the building,-- knocking you to the ground. Disorienting you.

Blinking a few times trying to regain your baring so you could at least see your attacker. Your grip on your bag is iron tight, ready to start swinging it to fight off whoever or whatever it was. The menacing laughter filled the alleyway. Bouncing off the bricks right onto you, it was impossible to tell the voice originated.

“I’ve been waiting a long time to get my hands on you.” He had a thick accent like he was from somewhere in New England. It was slimy, a predator playing a game with his prey.

If you made it out of this, you were officially taking that morning show.

Grabbing the pepper spray from your bag and spaying it at your attacker, you try to make a run for it. It did little to stop your attacker; it only spurred him on more. Letting out a sickening laughter, you didn’t make it far before he grabbed your arm, pinning you to the wall. One hand pins your arms above your head while the other rests around your throat.

“I hate it when they put up a fight. Why do they always put up a fight?” The man whispered in your ear. “That friend of yours is a real touch guy to get to, you know? Took me months to find out what his weakness was. Turns out he’s got a thing for pretty little things like you.”

“I don't know what you’re talking about. Please.” It was a choked response, his hand around your throat forcing any air out of your lungs. Tears finally fall from your eyes as the black spots begin to take over your vision.

“It ain't anything personal, sweetheart, but I won't lie to you; I’m gonna enjoy this.” He jerks your neck to the side. You close your eyes, ready for your inevitable end.

It never came; instead, the weight of your would-be attacker was thrown off of you. A demonic growl echoed off the stone walls. You fall to the ground gasping for air, trying to regain your bearings.

A new figure had entered the alleyway, holding your assailant by his throat, “You must truly have a death wish. Not many are brave enough to touch what is mine.” That voice… You know that voice.

Gasping, you look up, finally getting a good view of your mysterious stranger. He was tall with broad shoulders. He was dressed in a white dress shirt and black slacks. Both were so well fitted to his body that it was hard to tell if they were a part of his skin or not.

You could hear the struggling breaths of your attacker as he tried to loosen the grip Second had him in. His feet are kicking, trying to land a hit on Secondo. “That was my brother you killed, you son of a bitch.” The pressure around his throat muffed his voice.

Secondo only growled, his eyes practically glowing. Lifting his hand, ready to end his pathetic life once and for all. All you could do was watch as the attacker's free hand reached for a pocket inside his coat, a flash of silver catching the light.

“Watch out!” You screech, trying to warn him. But it was too late.

Secondo lets out a cry, a searing hot pain piercing his side. For a moment, his grip falters, just enough for the attacker to break free. Secondo grips the knife in his side, pulling it out, allowing it to cling to the floor. He stood there for what felt like an eternity, stunned by what just happened. Falling to his knees, looking at his hand, the black blood oozes out of his side.

“Not so tough now, are you, big guy.” His full attention was on Secondo. The thud of his body was the only sound you heard.

You don't know what came over you. All you saw was red. Grabbing the knife from the floor, taking a couple of deep breaths. Steadying your shaking hands, standing to your feet. You let out a war cry, catching your attacker off guard. Luging forward, you drive the knife straight into his chest.

He brings a hand to his chest, black coating his skin. He only laughs, “See you in hell, boss.” Your attacker falls to the floor, parts of him turning into ash, blowing away with the wind.

Dropping the knife, you stubble til you throw yourself next to him, “Hey, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. Please don't do this to me, not after I finally have you here! Fuck what do I do.” You frantically look for anything to stop the bleeding. His black ooze stained your hands, making a puddle on the alley floor.

“It’s ok luce stellare” he choked out, darkness clouding his vision.

He was powerless as he lay there, watching the tears flow from your gorgeous eyes. A sight he never wished to see, let alone for it to be his last. He hated it. Secondo was a lot of things, but powerless was never one of them. This wasn’t how he expected to die. Not in some random alleyway as you sit there pleading with him to stay awake. With the last of his strength, he goes to grab your hand. Giving it a squeeze before his whole world goes dark. The last thing he hears is the sound of you desperately pleading for him to stay with you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Secondo woke with a start, looking around the room, surprised to see that he was, in fact, not in his crypt. He was lying on someone’s couch, staring up at the ceiling. He sits up, trying to better view the room around him, only to be stopped by a sharp pain in his side. Groaning, he grips his side, ‘What happened?’

“Oh, thank god you’re awake.” The melody of your voice brings him back to the present. His eyes snap to meet you. You look like you haven’t slept all night, let alone moved from your spot on the chair you resided at. Wearing nothing more than an oversized shirt. The twilight that peaked through your window cast a glow around you. You looked like one of Lucifer’s fallen angels. “Thought I lost you there for a second.” It’s barely a whisper; he doesn't think he would have heard it without his supernatural hearing.

Breaking from his trance, “Where am I?” As if he didn't already know that this was the living room of your apartment. Nothing had changed since the last time he saw it, except the paint you had in the tins for months was finally on the walls.

“You’re at my apartment. That thing got your side pretty bad. You got a pretty nasty gash up your side.”

Secondo only looked at you. He wasn’t worried about himself for once. He was worried about you. Most importantly, he was confused. He was confused as to why you would ever save him. You saw him for the monster was. The kind that, if he wanted to, could kill you at a moment's notice. Yet the way your hands crested his side. The way you had stitched him up without a second thought. He couldn’t help the way his heart swelled at the notion. “You saved me. Why would you…”

“You were hurt. I couldn’t just leave you there…” You look down at your hands, cutting him off before he can press forward. Afraid to look him in the eyes.

Secondo was stunned. If his dead heart could, it would have skipped a beat.

“Since I kinda save your life, do I at least get some answers?” you ask timidly,

“Ask away…” He didn’t know why he was nervous. He was a man of power, and yet in front of you, he was putty–scared to answer the burning questions he knew you had. He would be lying if he said that you didn’t look adorable as you scrunch up your nose, taking a deep breath, ready to fire your questions.

“Do I finally get a name to the face?”

“I suppose so, luce stellare. Many names have known me throughout the years, but Matteo Emeritus ii is what my mama named me. My family calls me Secondo.”

“What would you like me to call you?”

“Whatever you’d like cara.” Perhaps it was the blood loss, or maybe he was just feeling bold, but the look he gave you was enough to make you feel like a sinner in church.

You pause for a moment debating if you really want to know the answer to the question, “What exactly are you?”

Aww, the million-dollar question he had been trying to avoid for as long as possible. “That’s a loaded question, I’m afraid. To put it in simple terms, I suppose I am a vampire.”

“You won’t hurt me, will you?” You questioned, despite already knowing the answer.

“Never.”

“Good.”

“Are you scared, amore mio?” He questioned, already sure of the answer.

“No, never.”

“Good” He couldn’t help the smile that made it onto his face. You could help but like his smile more than the stoic lines that never seemed to move, despite how small it may have been.

A silence fell over you both, a tension growing in the air between you both. There was an unspoken vow being shared between you both as you stared into his mismatched eyes.

“What happens now?” You breathe out, barely a whisper in the air, moving closer to where he sat.

“Whatever you would like cara mia.” There was a silent question to his statement like he was unsure what would happen next.

“I would like for you to stay.” There was a pause between you—uncertainty in the air. Your eyes meet. Neither of you was sure what exactly was going on, but you knew that you didn’t want him to leave.

He looks away, “I should probably be going, cara. You have already done so much for me.” He stands, letting out a wince as he falls back into the chair, clenching his side, “Fuck.”

“Ok, big guy, sit down.” You get up, placing your hand on his chest. “What can I do.”

“I need to feed cara.” He still refused to look at you.

“Drink from me…” You whisper, sliding into his lap. Your hand resting on his cheek, bringing him to look at you.

He stiffens under you, arms snaking around your waist, “No. I can’t do that to you cara”

“I’m not asking, Secondo.” You give him a stern look, “You’re hurt pretty bad, and if this is the only thing that can help, then please.” Pushing yourself further into his lap.

“Are you sure?” He could feel himself losing his restraint.

“Positive.” You pull your shirt down, exposing your neck to him.

Slowly he lowered himself so that he was level with your neck. His hot breath causes goosebumps to form along your skin. Casting one last look up at you, silently asking if this is ok, you nod your head offering him a reassuring smile. Finally, he sinks his teeth into your skin. Secondo relaxes next to you, an animalistic moan leaving his throat. Your breath gets caught in your throat, your arms resting on his shoulders, holding him close.

It wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact, it was almost pleasurable. A buzz was settling in your body as he pulled away. His chest rapidly rises and falls as he tries to catch his breath. Never in his long life had Secondo tasted anything as sweet as you. It was intoxicating. He could get lost in it for eternity.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to get carried away.”

“You didn’t.” You assure him. Resting your head against his. “I’m ok.”

A moment passed between both of you. Secondo tilted his head so that your eyes met. Searching for any fear within them. Finally, closing the distance between you. It was slow at first. Testing the waters. Enjoying just a taste of the other. However, after a few long seconds, it turned needier.

Your lips meet in a flurry of need, desperate to be as close to the other as possible. Nothing was holding either of you back. Hand mapping out every inch of the other, wanting to know every inch the other had to offer. Eventually, you had to pull up for air. Secondo was almost ashamed to admit he cased your lips, needing more of you.

Your head rests on his for a second as you try to catch your breath, “Wow…” you breathe out. Secondo laughs, his eyes searching yours like he is asking for permission to go further. There was a fire in his eyes like he would devour you whole. You shutter–lips finding their place back onto his. Sealing your fate.

It started slow at first. He wanted to savor this, savor you… Now that you were within his grasp, he never planned on letting go. He pulled you close so that you were straddling his lap. His tongue pushes at your bottom lip, begging for entrance. You were more than happy to give it to him, letting him take control.

He growls, letting his mouth wander down to your neck. He was getting lost in you, losing control and fast. You could feel the edge of something sharp on your neck, and you couldn't help the moan that escaped you. Pulling his closer to you, telling him it’s ok.

That was all he needed from you. His teeth sank into your delicate flesh. Claiming you as his. The sound that left him was sinful, animalistic in nature, as he drank your blood. It was like you were made just for him. His mind wandered, wondering what else of you would taste absolutely divine.

He pulls away, leaving you breathless, wanting more, needing more. He grabs your face so that you are looking at him. “Bedroom.” It was more of a command than a question.

“Down the hall on the left.” You were still trying to catch your breath.

Secondo nods, picking you up bridal style. His strength finally returned to him. He moved like a man on a mission. Throwing the door open. Taking note of the room around him before setting you down on the bed, again beginning his assault on your neck. Pulling your shirt up to relive that you did not have a bra on. He pauses, taking you in, “Sei più bella delle stelle e della luna nel cielo”

He brings his lips to yours; this time, it is slower, less desperate. Kissing his way down your neck to the valley of your breast. Licking and kissing every inch of skin he could. He takes one of your breasts in his mouth, his hand massaging the other. He was desperate to get any sound of you that he could. It wasn't enough. None of it was enough. He needed you; he needed to taste you. Have you.

He continued his assault on your tits. The sounds you were making spurred him on. His free hand beginning to make its way down. You tense under him in both want and anticipation. He was taking this slow, savoring your reaction, only stopping when he reached the band of your panties. He was ashamed to admit he almost busted when you gasped for air and brought your hand to your mouth when he barely touched you.

“Please.”

“Please, what amore mio” He started rubbing–circling around your clothed clit.

“Need you, please.”

“Need me to what amore. You need to tell me what you want.” He continued his assault on your tits. Biting down hard on your breast, licking up the blood that dripped down.

“Want you to touch me.” You gasp out. Grabbing onto his shoulder.

“Your wish is my command.” He didn't hesitate to bring one of his fingers into your soaked cunt. The sound that left you made him smirk. You were dripping with want. Your slick coating his fingers, making him moan around your chest. Secondo’s hot breath causes goosebumps to form down your body.

He was skilled beyond comparison. His fingers knew the right places to touch, to curl around the bundle of nerves inside of you. You could see stars in your vision, your moans only spurring him on. He was desperate to get every noise he possibly could get out of you. It was a game to him, and your pleasure was his prize; he would be damned if he ended this with you ever wanting anyone else. He was searching for that special spot inside of you. One he knew would send you higher. With the string of curses that followed, he knew he had found it. You were putty in his hands as he added another finger into you. Stretching you further, hitting all the right places.

He was no better. His cock was practically aching in his pants, desperate to be freed, as he worked you open. He needed to be inside of you but knew he needed to get you ready for him. You’re so tight that he’s worried he won’t fit. He finally releases for your chest kissing his way down your body. Sucking and nipping at the exposed skin.

“More, please, need more.” You whimper out.

He groans, putting another finger in you. You gasp, his hot breath on your cunt sending your higher and higher, not really sure how much more you could take before you came crashing down. He kisses your inner thigh, looking up at you. His mismatched eyes practically glowed in the dark room.

“You’re so good la mia luce stellare. I think you deserve a reward for how well you’re taking it.” He was relentless as he pushed into you, his mouth finally reaching your clit. You gasp from the contact. Pretty sure your neighbors were going to call for a noise complaint. You couldn’t find it in yourself to care–thighs coming to trap his head in place. He didn't stop you, taking pride in your reaction. He ate you up like a starving man, licking and lapping up everything you offered him.

You were so close, and he knew it. The smug bastard knew what he was doing, and he was taking pleasure in it. Your hands reach his head, pushing him further into you. He groans, the vibration sending you over the edge as you came.

He pulls out of you, kissing his way up to your lips. His hard cock resting on your sensitive pussy, making you shutter, still desperate for more.

You pull away, breathless, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, “I think you’re wearing too much.” Pushing it off his shoulders

He only chuckles going to help you remove his pants, hard cock finally free coming to hit his stomach, leaking precum. He pulls away just for a moment to throw his pants with the rest of the discarded clothes on the floor. You gasped, looking down at his cock; he was huge. You’ve been with a few guys before but never one like him. You gulp, not sure how he will fit inside of you.

“Don’t worry la mia luce stellare; we’ll go as slow as you need us to.” Secondo brings his lips to yours, kissing you lovingly as he rubs the tip of his cock through your folds. “Are you ready amore mio.”

“Please, Secondo. Need you.” You breathe out, bringing his mouth back to you in a desperate kiss.

That was all the confirmation he needed. Slowly pushing into you, stopping only when he felt your nails scratching his back as you gasped. “You taking me so well bambina. Just like that.” He whispers against your lips.

Groaning as he bottoms out in you. Savoring the feeling of your wrapped around him, giving you the time you needed to adjust to his size. Labor breaths filled the room as you took him in, sweat falling down your body, mixing with the dried blood.

“Move,” You demand. “Please move.”

He pulled out until the tip was inside you before slamming back into you. He set a slow pace, building up and steadily going faster. He didn't falter in his strength, trying to find the right spot that he knew would drive you absolutely mad in your lust-driven state.

“Fuck, don't stop.” you plead. Your fingers dragged down his back, leaving scratches in their wake.

He lets out an evil chuckle, “Just wait cara, I’m going to ruin you. You want that, wouldn’t you?” He picked up his pace, still steadily thrusting into you. “I’m going to ruin you til the only thing you remember is my name.”

His cock hits all the right spots, stretching you in the right ways. It was too much; you were reaching your peak fast. Tightening around him as you're second world-shattering orgasm hit you hard. A silent scream leaving you.

He didn't slow up. Only going faster with each thrust into you. He was relentless, desperate to get you higher and higher. He was being selfish, he knows, but he could help it when you looked at him like that drunk from lust because of him. He could help the way his cock twitched inside if you. Secondo was reaching his peak faster than he would have liked, but not before he could get one more out of you.

“Who do you belong to?”

All you could do was nod your head to whatever it was he was saying

“Tell me who you belong to, or I’ll stop.” he grows, grabbing your face so that you're looking him directly in his eyes.

“You! God, I belong to you.” desperate for him to keep going. You're so close. So fucking close

“That's right. Mine. All mine.” He punctate it with a snap of his hips

He could feel you tightening around him again, “One more, amore, Just one more.”

Kissing down your neck. Landing on your pulse point. Licking over it, savoring the breathless moans that escaped you. By now, his thrusts were becoming more erratic; he was close. His cock twitches inside of you as he sinks his teeth into you, lapping up everything you have to offer. That was all it took for you to fall over the edge one last time. Your neighbors most likely have called the police by now with the noises that were leaving you. You see stars. Your body was on cloud nine.

Secondo was not too far behind you. With a few more powerful thrusts and a thunderous groan, he found himself spilling his seed into you, bottoming out inside of you. He lazily thrust into you a few more times.

There were black spots in your vision from the blood loss, but you didn’t seem to care. You have never been this fucked out of your mind before. He was kissing his way back up to your mouth. Planting a loving kiss on your lips, whispering sweet nothings. Just content being in each other presence.

Secondo wasn’t sure when it happened, but the soft snores coming from you only caused him to bring you closer into his arms. Now that you were there, he never planned on letting go; for as long as you wanted, he would stay there by your side. Even if that meant you wanted forever, then forever you would get.

Translation:

Luce stellare- Starlight

Amore mio- My love

mio cara- My darling

Sei più bella delle stelle e della luna nel cielo- You're more beautiful than the stars and moon in the sky

La mia luce stellare-My starlight

Bambina-baby

#the band ghost #ghost bc #ghost #ghost band #vampire secondo #secondo x reader #papa emeritus ii x reader #papa emeritus x reader #secondo #papa secondo #papa emeritus ii

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luminashdawnwing · 4 months

Text

Gnothi Sauton (Part II)

(Part I)

As Theras hit the ground, the breath fled from his lungs. His throat still felt as if Caeridormi’s claws were digging in, and he felt the warmth of blood wetting his collar. He could see nothing beyond a choking smoke, and he could make no attempt at getting his breath back without coughing and sputtering on the acrid, poisoned air.

Rolling over, his eyes adjusting, the young ranger was greeted with streaks of orange and red seen through the smoke. A gust of wind drove it onward, ash swirling up from the charred ground, and when it cleared, there remained only a vision of utter desolation, still-smoldering embers drifting in the air. He shifted, and pulled himself up, stopping to adjust the dagger sheathed on his belt.

Beyond lay a valley, the only evidence of its former beauty the blackened, carbonized branches of horrifically-burned brush and trees, their remains jutting like broken bones from the landscape, cracks in their bark glowing with lingering flames.

Further still he looked, and Theras’ stomach opened into a pit of despair, his head swimming. A boiling sea all around, steam rising, its seething roar reaching him even so far away, and rising from the middle of the landmass, cradled by charred stone, what remained of Amirdrassil, its verdant canopy stripped of life, the source of the constant rain of soot and embers.

Caeridormi was nowhere to be seen. Wherever – whenever – the dragon had gone, she had left Theras alone at the end of the world, his blood running into the ash.

** ** **

Luminash’s scorched fingers wrapped around the haft of Theras’ spear as he picked it up from the damp soil of the hollow where it had fallen. The grotto sheltered by the roots of a great tree was empty now, though he and his companion – his other self, unburned, unbroken – could feel the scar left in the timeways here. Theras had been here as well, clearly. The former magister clenched his jaw as his hands clenched around the spear. This Theras could never be his son, but seeing the filth marring his weapon brought unbidden images of the Scourge swarming over his body lying in the Dead Scar. There was the gnashing of ghoul teeth, the clatter of bones, the sickening tearing of–

“Wherever she has taken him, it was done hastily. Shoddy work. Your delay, I believe, threw her off balance. Together, we ought to be able to pull apart the threads and slip–” the young ranger’s father began, breaking the silence, blessedly jarring his other self from the pain of remembrance.

He sighed, then, before continuing, “I am sorry. I know how hard this must be, but it will be harder for the both of us if we fail. Please, help me, and we can save him.”

The scarred elf recognized the look in the other’s blue eyes, the tone in his voice. It was the same pleading look he knew he must have had as he knelt crumpled before him, waking up to the realization of his folly, despair’s roots digging deep into his heart.

He nodded, still gripping the spear, and replied only, “Yes.”

In unison, the two men raised their hands towards the scar Caeridormi had left in time. Both pairs of eyes saw the threads frayed, saw how to pluck them. Though their training had differed, their skill was equal, mending the broken weave and weaving it anew, a stable and complete tapestry. Then, little by little, selecting one point and slowly, slowly drawing the threads apart, loosening them, allowing other possibilities to peek through.

Though their eyes then closed, their vision was shared as well. Beyond the veil were the twisting paths of the Timeways and their infinite temptations, the allure of infinite knowledge and experience. Caeridormi had left a trail of destruction in her reckless travel between timelines, like the trail of destruction left in the forest after a rampaging boar, the threads torn and trampled like so many branches. It was trivial to follow her.

And so, beyond the glimpses of other worlds – a Titan utopia, a fel-blasted waste, and myriad others so similar to their own so as to be indistinguishable – the pair coaxed open a portal. On the other side was only the desolation of Fyrakk’s victory.

** ** **

Caeridormi paced, cursing under her breath as the metallic boots she wore in her visage scraped against the ashy, charred stone near the base of Amirdrassil’s husk. Theras was out of either of his fathers’ reaches, she was safe – for now – but cornered. How had it come to this?

The death she had glimpsed would not come to pass, it could not! The timeways were infinite! There would always be another way to escape, another world to slip away into, another life to live. She simply had to adapt and overcome.

Her thoughts continued to race even as the tree above groaned, and a massive branch – one of the few remaining – tore free and fell, crashing to the earth below in a shower of embers and smoke, like the sound of a bonfire collapsing, but felt in the bones, such was its might.

Luminash Dawnwing was to be her demise, and she had trained a weapon, aimed it at his heart, his own broken reflection. Alas, though, the spear had missed its mark, hurled forth with all her might and buried impotently in the dirt. The shadowflame should have given him an edge over his counterpart, and yet she had seen no results. How long until the magister retaliated? Even if he found her, Theras – alone in this hell, unarmed, and wounded – would be her leverage.

This was not the place she would die, she knew, and so she was safe. She must be.

Then, at the edges of her awareness, she heard a scrabbling nearby on the rocks. As she whirled to face whatever had come, she felt, elsewhere, a tear open in time. It was all coming apart.

** ** **

Theras’ fingers slipped on the rock, but his foothold was strong, and with great effort, he pulled himself upward. The best thing to do in any unfamiliar environment was, after all, to attain high ground and survey the area, and no higher ground could be found than at the base of Amirdrassil – so much of the rest had been flattened and broken by whatever blast radiated when the tree bloomed in flame.

From the top of the rock face, he could hear footfalls. There was only one companion that he knew for certain he could meet in this place – his earlier hopes that he might meet some survivor were dashed each time he saw charred remains in the ash fields, the bodies being consumed by the landscape itself.

And so, as he threw his hand up over the edge of the rocks, he prepared himself. He would not be taken by surprise again. A cornered beast may fight back ferociously, but so did one injured.

** ** **

Luminash stood, dusting the ash from his hands and knees. While the hot wind had covered some grooves and pits on the ground, he was certain that the impressions in the blowing ash he had found were footprints.

“We are on the right track, I am sure of it.”

His scarred other nodded, his blackened hands still gripping Theras’ spear. The man had been so quiet since picking it up. Luminash could scarcely imagine what must be playing out in his mind. He remembered the Purge of Dalaran, and the panic that his son, merely a child – even more so than now – might be imprisoned, or killed. He felt that same panic now, but this time, he was here, and could save him.

His other self had lost that chance, and at the cusp of his victory, his opportunity to do it all over, he had torn it away from himself.

“Come. I fear we’ve little time in a place like this.”

The other nodded again, and managed a reply, “Agreed. I…would never wish to see the world like this. Would that I had not.”

** ** **

The boy was swift, and persistent, if weak. Even unarmed, he had shocked her with his initial onrush. Yes, he had tried to speak – so like his father, always talking – but she had denied him the chance. He had dodged under her, striking out with a leg sweep as he did. Her humiliation, her fall into the dust, the sheer indignity would be repaid in full!

Her claws raked down across the ranger as he tried to strafe around her. He would not find an opening here, no, a mere mortal, her pawn in the game. The gauntlets she wore gave way, for a moment, to jet black scales, silver ornaments subsumed by the blue-white glow of her draconic claws.

Theras fell back, clutching his arm, and opened his mouth to speak again, interrupted by a torrent of brazen sand from Caeridormi’s upraised hand. She would not listen to another Dawnwing’s mortal prattling, not any longer!

The ranger dodged again, his reflexes surprising for one so clearly inexperienced. Whoever had trained him had done well enough, she was forced to admit, but it would do little but postpone the inevitable.

As he slipped her grasp again, she leapt, the illusion of her visage shattering for a moment, great wings sprouting from her back, great billows of ash flying into the air as she rose, only to come crashing down, the force of her attack sending the insolent little ranger to the ground, her clawed hand pressing into his chest, the glow of her claws bright against the welling of elven blood.

Under the shadow of her wings, the weight of her claws, the elf looked, at last, as easily breakable as she knew such mortals were. Her own elven visage twisted into a smile.

“Admirable, Theras. You are more resourceful than I gave you credit for, but I have had enough. The sands run down, and I am afraid that your time is up.” She raised her other arm, slender fingers growing, pale skin turning to black scales, a strike to tear the throat. Then, a stabbing pain in her abdomen, the warmth of blood.

In the ranger’s shaking hand was a dagger – little more than a piece of camping equipment, truly – soaked in draconic blood. His eyes betrayed his fear, as did the shaking of his limbs, yet still he thrust the knife again.

As she bled, Caeridormi brought her claws down, only for her world to erupt in violet flame.

** ** **

The dragon was hurled from Theras by a searing gout of shadowflame, her visage – broken as it was by claws and wings – thrown to the base of the blackened tree by the force of it.

The ranger choked on his own breath, and as he struggled to roll to his side, he felt the stabs of pain from ribs broken before he saw his rescuer. Surely, the figure was his father, but his skin was broken by burning cracks, and blackened along his arms. He was the spitting image of Amirdrassil.

Instead of stopping to help his son, though, the man strode by, Theras’ own spear in hand, towards Caeridormi, his flaming eyes blazing with murderous intent. The ranger let out a breath, wincing from pain. This was not his father, not unless something had gone terribly wrong in their home timeline.

As this realization dawned, the air shimmered next to Theras, and his own father materialized, slipping back into visibility, kneeling beside him. He had seen that trick before, that bending of space and light, but it never failed to catch him off guard – natural camouflage he could handle. His next breath was one of relief, all the same. Perhaps this day would end less poorly than he had previously imagined.

** ** **

“Ungrateful creature!” Caeridormi spat as she struggled on the ground, the wings breaking through her visage flailing, sending ash whirling into the air around her.

Luminash was unbothered. As the ash struck the air near him, it burst into flame anew, bright flashes upon the burning barrier within which the former magister had wreathed himself. He breathed deep, raising his free hand as he spoke, the glow of embers under his skin surging, fingers wreathed in sparks – and the sickly violet of the Void.

“On the contrary,” he intoned, much of his concentration clearly on the spell he was preparing, “It is you I have to thank more than any other. You set me on this path, after all.”

The dragon succeeded in hauling herself to her feet, icy blue eyes boring through the elf. One hand clutched her bleeding side, the other glowed, an aura of brazen sand swirling around it, “And you have stumbled off the edge, haven’t you? I do not die here, mortal. There is nothing you can do that I would fear.”

The mage brought his hand down, a surge of shadowflame crashing down from above, “But you will still die. You taught me yourself: what seems predestined can be changed.”

Caeridormi threw her wings into the path of the flame, its searing heat blistering the membrane and charring scales. From beneath her wings’ shadow, her gritted teeth betrayed the pain. It may not be death, but it could not be pleasant.

Another surge, and the former magister’s already cracking, blistering skin seethed from within with an even greater heat, “But there are things that must be, that will be. Our path towards them may change, but the end cannot.”

As the elf spoke, Caeridormi lashed out, a burst of temporal energy erupting from the dragon, and the ground beneath Luminash surged to life. It was a vibrant green, vines snaking up and around his limbs, the shock of it distracting enough that Caeridormi had the opportunity to leap over him, bloody and burned, her visage shattering entirely. Hurriedly, he untangled the knot of temporal energy surrounding him, and the anomaly – the life amidst only desolation, a glimpse of a past that this world would never again see – dispersed.

With a crash, Caeridormi landed, a dragon in truth once more.

** ** **

Luminash plucked at the threads of time, prying open bit by bit a passage back to his timeline, fingers drawing the filaments like plucking an unseen lyre. His free hand rested on his wounded son’s shoulder, a sandy glow emanating from his palm.

The magister could hear Theras’ words, could feel his sense of relief, but his attention was torn between two complicated spells, and he could only offer the reassurance of his presence. The window in time slowly grew, and the sands of time slowly turned back around Theras’ injuries.

“This will hurt in a moment, Theras. Be ready; it will be over quickly, though,” Luminash whispered, his own voice distant as he concentrated heavily on his spellwork.

While bursts of shadowflame erupted out of the corner of Luminash’s eye, his son thrashed suddenly, jolts of pain stabbing through him – the moment of the wound’s making, the slashing of claws, the tearing of flesh felt anew just before the gashes began to close. Another jolt, and the magister could hear the crunching of bone, see his Theras’ broken ribs set themselves once more.

Theras’s breath came heavily, shakily from the pain, his father’s hand still a reassuring pressure, as the way back home opened in the air, a swirling mass of sand, the greenery of the Emerald Dream beyond. Without aid from his other self, though, it remained small, impossible to traverse. It would take more time. Luminash pulled his hand away from his son and continued his spellwork, his full concentration now on the final task at hand: escape.

Then, a crash, a roar, and the threads grasped in his fingers frayed, torn away as if by a cutting gale and scattered in the winds. The way home was gone – for now – yet Caeridormi remained.

** ** **

The dragon looked down upon the mortals arrayed before her. Three elves, one barely able to stand – weak, not a threat – and two magisters – easily broken under fang, wing, and claw. In the back of her mind, she knew that one was the bearer of her death, but this could be rewritten, here and now. Must be rewritten.

She beat her wings, throwing ash into the air and driving the frail figures back, and drew in her breath. The weave of time came with it, swirling sands filling her lungs and throat – no obstruction, so naturally a part of her was this power.

The mages threw barriers up before them, violet arcane minging with Void-tinged shadowflame, a wall to protect them and their charge from the onslaught of her breath. When it was done, still they stood.

“You cannot stand against the Infinite! Nothing can, not even fate! Your true timeline is nothing but a grand lie!” Caeridormi shouted, a roar from her jagged maw, as she surged forward, claws crashing down, the barrier shattering under the force, and throwing her assailants to the ground.

“I tried to liberate you, Dawnwing, tried to show you a better way. To give you what you deserve! Your son, your life back, it was a gift!” Fury rose in her chest as she reared back, another beating of her wings. Below her was the crumpled, scarred elf, his burning eyes boring into hers. He remained defiant even as she brought her massive claw down again, his bones shattering under the weight as his slight form was ground into the ashes.

“You were bold, I will give you that,” the dragon growled, lowering her head close to the elf. She could smell the metallic tang of blood spilling from him, “But you were wrong. This is not where I will die. Give my regards to your son.” A laugh, like the sound of stone shaking loose from a cliff face, rumbling from the dragon’s throat, “If you can find what’s left of him in the Maw.”

** ** **